She-Ra and the Doom Crystal
by Lady Jess Knight
Summary: Upon discovering the existence of a hidden mine beneath the Fright Zone, Hordak hatches a plan to use the so-called 'Doom Crystal' to kidnap She-Ra and bring her to her knees...
1. Chapter 1

**She-Ra and the Doom Crystal**

**By Jessica Knight**

**1**

The dark night fell upon Etheria like a dragon descending across the land. The moonlight silhouetted the imposing, insectoid shadow of the Fright Zone; centre of operations for the dreaded Horde. In the past years, the base had become a sprawling technological nightmare: a labyrinthine cauldron of evil combining the hub of the Horde operations, its industry and barracks; as well as acres of despicable prisons and slave mines.

In the annals of the Horde headquarters, Hordak sat vexed at his throne, poking aimlessly at a shabbily constructed map of the planet that sat before him. The current peace that swathed the Kingdoms troubled him; he knew it was time to reinforce the Horde's slackening grip on the people.

Fingers pressed against his temples he searched for a solution. He needed a new master plan to shake up the complacent Horde, they _were _the rulers after all. Alas, the combined forces of She-Ra and the alleged 'Great Rebellion' had had him and his cronies at bay for too long: far too long for his impatient liking. Something had to give.

The Horde recruitment drive he'd initiated was going well – drawing in promising types to elevate his army beyond the petty grey stock troopers - but it would take time to get up to speed. Likewise, the factories and foundries of the Fright Zone were working overtime to upgrade the troops from a base level; Entrapta overseeing a radical overhaul of the weapons and armour – but on a timescale. Time and patience were not ideas that appealed greatly to Hordak. Yet, at least he had his small band of trusted lieutenants.

Scratch that, he didn't trust _any _of his lieutenants.

Hordak let out a hefty sigh and sank back into throne, hewn of bone and stone. The evil Lord of the Horde barely noticed as the shrouded form of Shadow Weaver – the Horde's resident Mistress of Dark Magic - floated into his throne room.

"Master." Shadow Weaver's shrill voice greeted him as she bowed her unseen, red hooded head and hovered before Hordak's throne.

"What is it, crone?" Hordak scratched his huge cranium and barked dismissively.

"I have news, important…"

"Now what have I told you, hmm? I'm to be left alone this evening, Shadow Witch." He still faced the ramshackle three-dimensional map of Etheria on the table ahead of him – constructed largely of bone -and not his spectral minion.

"With respect, my Lord: I think this discovery is somewhat… worthy of your attention."

Hordak gave a heavy sigh.

"Very well." He absconded, prompting Shadow Weaver to clear her throat.

"Our subterranean slave mines have expanded so much down the way to Etheria's core, we've touched upon a deposit deep within the planet's crust. It's been unseen – unknown – for centuries."

"I'd get on with it." Hordak grumbled.

"Damzelite." Shadow Weaver hissed with brevity and pleasure. Hordak paused, letting the name seep into his brain, before shrugging in resentment.

"This means nothing to me."

"It is the rare material that is the antithesis to Coridite – and practically the only thing that can overthrow its power. _Easily _overthrow its power."

Hordak leaned forward, resting his chin on his fists. He began to understand the gravity of the matter now. Shadow Weaver's thrill was tangible. 'Coridite' was the magical element that composed the omnipotent 'Power Swords' of both He-Man and She-Ra. With those two figureheads nullified, the ease of the Horde's absolute domination would be incalculable.

"Damzelite." He mused, staying calm. "The Doom Crystal?" The odious dictator gave a slight sneer, the concept finally dawning on him. "No. It's mere mythology. I wasted years searching for that."

"Not so." Shadow Weaver bobbed up and down, visibly excited with her news. "We already have samples. While we've failed in the past to retrieve this elusive, so called 'Doom Crystal', we now have access to a veritable Doom _Mine."_

Shadow Weaver opened her cloak and revealed a lumpy shard of bottle-green, shining material, almost fist-sized. A Doom Crystal.

She gazed at it for a moment before passing it slowly into Hordak's clutches.

"Then it is so…"

"I would not come to you if I was unsure, Master."

"Tested and clarified?" Hordak gripped the glowing, green gemstone firmly in his grasp. Truly, he could feel an essence of evil power stemming to its core.

"Tenfold." Shadow Weaver gave an unseen smirk.

"I can feel its power." Hordak spoke to himself, ruminations in his mind. He turned back to his ghost-like lieutenant. "Stop all the current foundry action at once. I need all the worker drones I can get on the project of fashioning something with which to harness this great power. It is now our ultimate priority"

"Already done, my liege." Shadow Weaver simpered, drawing an impressed look from the Horde Leader.

"Excellent."

"In fact, Entrapta already has blueprints, and possible prototypes, for some kind of firearm." Shadow Weaver swallowed hard at the information she was about to divulge. "It needs testing of course, but she believes a single blast from this, when complete, may be enough to _kill _She-Ra."

Hordak bristled with manic laughter. "Kill the meddling muscle-maiden? Never. That would only give her a martyr's exit." Hordak smiled and tossed the Doom Crystal from hand to hand. "No, she will indeed be broken by this: but only into submission and servitude to me. That will be her lasting example to the so-called 'Great Rebellion!"

"As you wish."

Hordak pondered for a moment, and coined another plan from the wicked depths of his brain. If he could break She-Ra, then why not He-Man simulteanously? It would certainly be feasible; especially if the reports of a extensive Damzelite Mine were to be believed.

"Hmm. I almost hate to do this. Open contact with Eternia, Shadow Weaver. I must consult with that cantankerous bag-of-bones, Skeletor." Hordak stroked his chin, weighing his decision.

"As you wish." Shadow Weaver repeated, slowly floating out of the throne chamber. "I shall prepare…" her voice echoed from the corridor.

Hordak rested back in his throne, a smile staying on his mouth. A new, terrible weapon and a plot to kidnap his nemesis: the solution to his problems had very much arrived. Already ahead of himself, he was formulating a way to overthrow Skeletor's command after the inevitable downfall of He-Man and his heroic warriors. To his mind, Skeletor's prime powers drew largely from Coridite as well: after all his 'Power Sword' comprised the other half of He-Man's. And who was to say if the mighty hero could be brought to his knees, then why not his sworn enemy?

Hordak grinned wildly. Etheria was one thing. Etheria _and _Eternia was quite another. With Shadow Weaver's help, his diabolical plan was already being set in motion.

Taking aim, he hurled the Doom Crystal at the map of Etheria, shattering its structures to dust to the sound of his uproarious laughter.

Adora awoke in her chambers, deep in the wings of Bright Moon Castle – blades of daylight breaking through the hastily shut curtains and onto her bed. It was a fitful night's sleep. Uneven dreams of Hordak had haunted her, and her gut instinct was to be on guard. She Ra hadn't been needed in the Kingdom for some time, but that only put her more on edge; her visions were seldom wrong.

Pulling her shiny blonde hair back from her face, Adora got out of bed. She'd had enough of bad dreams, and that wasn't what today was going to be about.

Today was a holiday and a day for celebration, as it was Queen Angella's birthday. The party devised for the beloved Monarch would be a lavish affair as ever, with Lords and Ladies from all over Etheria already in attendance at the Palace.

Adora went about her daily tasks in the Palace as usual, before heading back to her chambers to prepare for the party, two of her most trusted handmaidens in tow. She had to look spectacular, especially with all the regal and beautiful competition, and she had just the dress in mind.

The young girls brought her the gorgeous, shimmering red satin gown, and Adora stripped out of her casual attire, and straight into the dress.

The bodice fitted Adora snugly, showing off both her sensual curves and her ample cleavage to alluring effect. A white belt with a solid gold buckle was fastened around her slender waist, and she brushed her hands down the tight yet elegant knee-length skirt, and slipped her feet into a pair of matching, ruby-encrusted heels. A long, scarlet train led from the back of the tight skirt down onto the floor with captivating effect.

With the girls' help, Adora slipped her hands into a pair of brilliant white opera gloves that slinked all the way up to her biceps. Clasped at her wrists was a pair of priceless, thick golden cuffs to embellish the sparkling effect.

Adora turned sideways to pose in the mirror, before summoning the final touch of her outfit from the wardrobe. The handmaidens draped the long cape – of deep, matching scarlet – across her shoulders and buckled it in place with a shimmering gold clasp to match her belt buckle and wrist cuffs. Looking herself up and down, Adora truly looked the part of a Princess.

"Oh, your Highness" her first young brunette aide chirped, mouth agape "you look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you, Elyssia." Adora smiled kindly as she took her seat in front of the mirror, the two servants beginning to apply her make-up.

As they finished off, the Princess dismissed them, before having one final look in the mirror.

Pleased with her efforts, Adora left her chambers and headed out towards the main hall, where the party was already beginning.


	2. Chapter 2

**2**

Royalty and the gentry composed most of the crowd - assembled on various circular tables around the huge, gleaming hall as well as mingling in the central standing room – as Adora had grown to expect from such an occasion. The Princess entered the room - awash with colour and the sounds of bristling conversation – and immediately began turning heads with her bewitching appearance.

Across at the stage-like top table was Queen Angella herself – resplendent in an ivory gown that complemented her striking, feathered wings - and deep in conversation with Frosta, the slinky, vixen-esque ruler of the Kingdom of Chill.

As she walked, Adora saw Glimmer there now - amongst the throng of the Hall floor - her unmistakable and voluminous pink hair and purple tiara adorning her head. She looked stunning – Adora rarely saw her out of her Rebellion fatigues – alluringly clad in a diamond-clad gown of gleaming silver and matching elbow length gloves, with a sparkling jewel-encrusted choker at her neck. Adora stifled a gasp at her vision: she looked truly like the Queen's daughter: the Princess she was, and not just a warrior of the rebellion. Glimmer turned, mid-conversation, and caught Adora's gaze, her scarlet lips breaking into a lovely smile.

Smiling herself -and greeting various Lords and Ladies with waves and kisses - Adora made her way through the crowd to convene with her fellow Princess.

"You look beautiful, Adora." Glimmer excused herself from her conversation and leant in to kiss her scarlet-clad friend on the cheek.

"Look who's talking." Adora smiled as she gladly returned the gesture. "That dress is amazing. I don't see you in pretty clothes enough for my liking." Adora gripped Glimmer's gloved hand in her own and gave her a wink.

"Not usually my style." Glimmer blushed slightly.

Across at the top table, Queen Angella threw her head back violently – as if struck – and pressed her hand to her forehead.

"Too much wine already, my Queen?" Frosta chuckled.

"There is a great danger afoot." Angella said softly, putting Frosta suddenly on guard.

As the Queen foresaw, and in a speedy instant: the party was interrupted. An explosion from the east wall cut through the atmosphere and startled every last guest – silencing the conversation. A light smoke poured from the wall, guests immediately scattering.

"What's going on?" Adora chirped, her eyebrows arching fearfully. Glimmer stepped protectively in front of her friend and looked across at the blast in the wall. Her pretty face tightened in a look of severe determination.

"Horde Troops." Glimmer said, quietly. True enough; a mass of grey automatons was beginning to form through the smoking, gaping hole.

"Everybody out, quickly!" Queen Angella stood up at her throne and commanded; calmly but firmly. She dropped her hand to hit the emergency alarm button hidden in the throne arm. Her mighty feathered wings rose above her as she raised a fist and hurled a magical bolt of shimmering light towards the incoming troops, creating a smokescreen to cover her subjects' escape.

As the mist settled and the alarm sounded, the crowd of partygoers began to filter out the south exit of the hall. Some of the guests – the young, the rebels – stood their ground, determined to stay and fight with whatever weapons or magic they could muster.

"I'm going for help." Adora stammered, tottering on her heels as she made her way to the West Wing corridor as the laser beams began flashing around – randomly, inaccurately - lighting up the Hall.

"Adora, be careful!" Glimmer ducked a ricochet as one of the bay windows was systematically smashed open, more Hordesmen piling through it. Kicking off her heels, the leader of the rebellion stooped low and ran back through the Hall – making for the Palace's armoury.

The guards of Castle Bright Moon began to assemble in the wings, gathering in a defence formation.

"My Queen, you must retreat!" Frosta barked, garnering a nod from Angella.

"I will summon a force-field. Leave the Horde to the guards, Frosta!"

"No chance, your highness. With all due respect." The Ice-Queen curtsied and smiled at Angella as the buzz of the incoming Horde and the flashes of their lasers became louder.

As Queen Angella stepped back and down from the stage-bound top table – escorted by two of her bodyguards – Frosta flipped one of the tables over in front of her for cover and looked upon the horde of infiltrators with a snarling grin. She adjusted her tight blue dress so as to avoid a wardrobe malfunction and began to summon the powers of ice and snow to her fingertips.

Looking over the Hall as the final guests were dispersing, Frosta caught sight of Vivian Redretta – better known to the rebels as Netossa – kicking off her encumbering high heels and diving into a position of cover behind one of the room's monolithic marble pillars. As Netossa ripped part of her long black dress off and looked upwards at the stage, her fellow blue-haired warrior woman gave her a brisk salute. With the vehement nod she received in return, Frosta knew at least one heroine had her back.

"Boy, have they picked the wrong day for this." Frosta cackled to herself before stepping aside from her cover and unleashing a dual ice-blast with the palms of both hands: the effects of which sent the Horde Troops at the window flailing hopelessly back outside in the barrage.

Liberated in her barefoot state, the stunningly attired figure of Princess Glimmer made her way past two rows of the palace's elite guards– armed to the teeth – and down a flight of steps to Bright Moon Castle's basement armoury.

Glimmer lifted the sparkling silver skirts of her gown as she rushed. The weapons were laid out before her in long rows in the large, blue-hued chamber. Amongst the rifles, pistols, swords and spears, the guards had already selected their share, but there was plenty left for the regal leader of the Rebellion.

As she burst across the cold stone floor to arm herself, she was interrupted by pounding footsteps from the alternative entrance to the antechamber. Expecting allies, Glimmer gasped as she saw two humanoid figures – helmeted and clad in unfamiliar jet black snake-style armour bearing the red bat-like Horde crest – descend the stairs and train their laser rifles at her.

Glimmer's body froze, but her mind was racing.

"Surrender." The first aimed his weapon at the Princess and stated calmly.

Hesitating and looking at the gun in front of her, Glimmer pulled back from the weapon rack and stood very still. Swiftly utilizing the strong psionic skills garnered from her mother, she forced her influence into the soldier's mind. Mind-controlled for a moment, the Hordesman turned and blasted his partner dead. As he did so, Glimmer grabbed the nearest laser rifle and fired: hitting the other soldier in the back and sending him to the same fate.

As she tucked a secondary pistol into the bodice of her dress and gave a rueful sigh at taking the lives of her enemies - Glimmer made her way carefully back up the stairs, and to the awaiting skirmish.

Adora snuck out, relatively un-noticed, of a side exit of the hall, to the blue marbled corridors leading to the West Wing. Her sharp heels clicked loudly against the polished floor, much to her discomfort. She had to get to her chambers, and more importantly, her sword.

Adora flicked her long cape back as she rushed as quickly as her heels would allow. The Princess skidded to a halt as two malevolent, inhuman figures appeared from a doorway to block her path.

"Uhh, hi?" Adora paused, running her gloved hand up through her hair. The two standardized, grey Troops of the Horde hovered ahead of her, spindly arms outstretched from its sturdy armoured body.

"Take her." The closest Horde troop ordered to its identikit ally in a computerized drawl. As it made its move, so did Adora. Hiking up the cape and the train of her dress, she arched a hard kick that knocked the first android against the wall. Grabbing the thin arm of the following 'droid, she spun it round hard, crashing into the other and sending sparks flying from the collision. Causing enough of a gap for her escape, Adora held up her skirts higher and broke into a run down the shimmering corridor. Within moments, she'd reached her destination, with seemingly no robotic repercussions behind her.

The Princess swung open the door and burst into the darkened room, shutting the door behind her.

Adora sighed in relief and smiled as she opened the glass case and fitted her grasp snugly around the hilt of the beautiful sword. Her fear and anxiety seemed to disappear into the ether as she pulled down the mighty blade and held it by her side for a moment, letting its magic sink into her. With a deep breath, she turned and held the sword skywards, high above her head.

"By the honour of Greyskull!" Adora cried aloud, sending brilliant light from the blade and initiating her magical transformation into the heroine She-Ra: Princess of Power.

In the Hall melee, the Horde troops - barely breaking into the depths of the room -were already up against it.

The ballgown-clad Glimmer – now toting an oversized laser rifle - had blasted her way through the dwindling crowd of Horde Troops and had teamed up with Frosta – who had left an endearing series of Horde ice sculptures in her wake – and Netossa, who had left her assailants hanging helplessly from the ceiling, bound up in nets.

Beside them to the left – alongside the main, damaged wall leading to the gardens – the Palace Guards had effectively rounded up the remaining would-be infiltrators. The battle, as it was, looked to be already won.

With a crash from the West Wing, the formidable form of the Princess of Power burst into the hall, sending a pair of golden energy blasts from the crystal of her sword; and destroying some scattering Horde Troops in her wake.

"She-Ra!" Glimmer turned, gun still in hand, and burst into a wide smile.

"About time." Frosta grumbled, smoothing down the contours of her icy blue cocktail dress.

"Is Adora all right?" Glimmer shouted across the hall, concerned.

"Safe, Glimmer - as is your mother. I see you're doing pretty well in thwarting this siege." She Ra bounded over an upturned table to bring herself face to face with her pretty ally. Glimmer nodded but gave a look that defied complacency; one of the things that made her a strong leader.

"For now, maybe. But Catra is behind this, I saw her outside – just for a moment -retreating with some of her troops."

"Agreed, she's heading for the mountains." Frosta offered, stepping down from the stage.

"Then that's where I'm going." She-Ra countered.

"She-Ra, no!" Glimmer's voice gave way to an embarrassing squeak against her intentions. "Let them go, it's too dangerous…"

"Nonsense, Glimmer. I have to find the ringleaders and bring them in, and find out the meaning of this attack. Besides, no job is too dangerous for a Princess of Power." The heroine gave a smile and a knowing wink to her ally - setting her mind at ease – as she turned and rushed from the main hall.

Glimmer sorted out her gown and gave a quizzical look to first Frosta, then Netossa standing back in her ripped dress.

"There's no arguing with her." Frosta shrugged.


	3. Chapter 3

**3**

In the jilted, rocky mountains to the east of Bright Moon, amongst an ancient triumvirate of standing stones, the deplorable Shadow Weaver stood looking out across the sky; plotting the downfall of her greatest enemy. In her warped, magical mind, she'd conjured up a defined vision – of a place further than her mere eyes could see. The red cloaked creature twitched wildly on the spot - immediately getting a coherent glimpse of what she was looking for.

"She is coming. Alone." Shadow Weaver chuckled, patently pleased with her conjured vision. "This is proceeding even more splendidly than I had foreseen."

Two lieutenants of the evil Horde joined Shadow Weaver on her mountaintop perch. The insect-esque Scorpia made her presence known first, poking at a dying campfire with her pincer-like hands.

"Good. This waiting makes me itch for a fight. I can't wait to get my claws into that goody-goody minx." She stood up and stretched, showing off her toned body in its tight, shiny black bodice flecked with blood red. Her huge, red scorpion's tail hovered above her head like a constant threat.

Shadow Weaver nodded, understanding, as she turned to her other partner-in-crime, Enrapta.

"What about you, are you ready?"

"Sure." Entrapta – a statuesque goddess of a creature – cooed back. Her incredible body was poured into a metallic golden dress, which led to thigh high boots beneath a pleated pink and blue skirt. The dual colours matched those of her hair – her most alarming feature - immaculately plaited and falling all the way down her back all the way to the ground. "You know, I'm the best for a reason." As if to prove her point, she stooped to draw a firearm (of her own design) out of a black case on the ground, near the fire.

The weapon – fashioned like a larger version of the laser rifle favoured by the Horde, but with an outsized scope and an all-round bottle-green hue – glowed ominously in Entrapta's fondling grasp as she took her position, hidden from view among the standing stones. Behind the scope, the rounded shard of Doom Crystal sat in its customized hopper – emitting a slight hum, hinting at its boundless evil energy.

"Good."

Shadow Weaver closed her slits of eyes and concentrated to contact Catra – marching on the flatlands below them at the head of a company of Horde Troops - with her unerring telepathy.

_Keep marching. She is coming. It will not be long._

Catra, eager as ever for a showdown with She-Ra, smiled to herself as she silently received and obeyed the message.

In the darkening sky above – mounted upon her fabulous steed, Swift Wind - She-Ra gave heroic chase to the supposedly fleeing Horde, her lustrous blonde hair and cape billowing behind her.

The Princess of Power looked hard ahead and almost immediately saw the grey-tinged ranks of the Horde Troops, marching swiftly towards Bright Moon's mountainous terrain, close to the coastline. Swift Wind whinnied, and gathered speed as the small shapes of She-Ra's enemies honed into a sharper view.

"Down, Swift Wind" She-Ra ordered softly, and the magnificent beast responded, drawing her low into a circular valley of sorts. To the left and right were moss-flecked rock faces, towering to about forty-feet high. Ahead was more of the same – yet with the rocks seemingly redder and angrier -opening into a slight gully to which the Horde was about to file through, heading towards a coastal path that led to the lips of the Singing River.

"Head up behind those rocks and keep watch, my dear." She-Ra stroked Swift Winds mane and whispered in her ear.

As the white-clad heroine dismounted and followed the party on foot, the marching stopped. The Horde Troops were already aware of her presence behind them on the open ground. The Princess counted the odds: perhaps twenty of them – and bog-standard troops at that – not likely to pose a massive problem in the peak physical shape she was in.

At the head of the party was a familiar figurehead; a svelte vision in red to stand out drastically from the greying masses.

She-Ra didn't falter – her red cape flapping behind her in the coastal breeze – the ground underfoot beginning to loosen into muddy, boggy terrain: caking the sides of her golden boots as she advanced.

"Catra, I knew you'd be behind this tomfoolery." She-Ra hollered at her scarlet-clad nemesis as the vixen stood grinning in the mouth of the gully, her hands on her hips. "Are you coming to play, or are you still in the middle of your disappearing act?"

Catra stood firm, yet didn't answer. The response came from high above and to the left of She-Ra, taking her aback slightly.

"We're all desperate to play with you, O Princess of Power." The voice was the sarcastic snarl of Shadow Weaver, who honed into view – spectre-like - across the mountainside to the left of the Princess.

She-Ra swallowed hard, ruing the ambush and her decision to ignore Glimmer's sound advice. She drew her sword and stepped forward, smiling to herself to restore her confidence.

"Well, well. Is this some kind of 'Horde Royal Welcoming Committee?' I can only say I'm touched." She-Ra ran a hand back through her thick mane.

"Not quite, your highness." hissed Shadow Weaver, floating menacingly above the rocks.

"I don't know, I'm certainly _thrilled _to see her!" Another, raspier, voice echoed out from among the rocks. She-Ra – noticeably flustered now – spun to see Scorpia appear at the opposite side of the gorge.

"Three meddling vixens, eh? This should take me a few more minutes, but not to worry…"

"Give yourself up, Princess. You have no chance." Shadow Weaver offered, with a meaningful wave of her hand.

With that, the Horde Troops began to move – attack formation – heading towards and around the heroine as she stood in the open ground.

"I'll deal with you next, Shadow Weaver." She-Ra bellowed, looking right and left, battle tactics quickly flickering through her brain. She closed her eyes and gave a swift prayer to Greyskull, before raising her magical sword and wading into the path of her impending enemies.

She-Ra began to fight, much to Shadow Weaver's cackling derision. This momentary distraction was all she needed, as the hovering villainess summoned Entrapta into action. The copiously haired siren shuffled into view from behind the trio of standing stones and primed her weapon: the hand-cannon fuelled by the Doom Crystal, aiming its cross-hairs immediately and directly at the battling figure of She-Ra.

The heroine's sword sent blasts of energy into, and slashed its way through the Horde ranks with ease. As she tossed another uniform Troop aside, She-Ra fixed Catra, unmoved behind the Horde numbers, in her sights. The Princess took the momentary chance to charge her sword full of energy and send a shimmering fireball-esque volley at her foe. Slipping her eye-mask down over her face – its green cats-eyes flashing – Catra avoided the blast and slipped into an invisible state.

"Come on." She-Ra boomed as the feline villainess vanished into the darkening air.

As the Princess fought far below her, Entrapta advanced, steadied herself and pulled the trigger; changing the rules of the battle an instant.

"Uhhh!" The heavy green blast caught She-Ra awkwardly on the shoulder, sending her flying; spinning several times through the air, stunned by the monumental and unexpected power of the Doom Crystal. The Princess fell hard into the bog, flecks of mud enveloping her shimmering white dress as her powerful body juddered with the shock. Worst of all, her mighty sword fell from her grasp in the moment, plunging deep into the mud a few feet to the side of her.

Fear seized She-Ra instantly. She attempted to get to her feet but struggled, a deep sense of worry flowing through her. Even the mighty Hordak was never able to deliver a knockout blow like she'd just been hit with. And desperately, by the love of Greyskull, she needed the sword.

Scorpia made her move from the cliffs and leapt from the rocks – somersaulting high through the air and dropped to the ground behind She-Ra and with a practiced whip of her deadly tail, she had brought the heroine's precious sword from the mire into her own, pincer-like clutches.

"No!" She-Ra cried out, her voice raw and sore as her talisman was taken from her.

Her Mistress clearly in trouble, Swift Wind burst from the cover of the rocks and bulldozed through the remaining Horde Troops, knocking them left and right like skittles. As the mighty beast sped into a gallop, heading for Scorpia and the sword, another demonic green blast from above sent the steed falling lifelessly to the ground.

"Bullseye." Entrapta exclaimed proudly as a green haze rose up like gunpowder from the 'Doom Cannon'.

"Swift Wind!" She-Ra gasped, staggering to her feet. The momentary diversion left the Princess prone to another, accurate blast from Enrapta's dreaded, evil fuelled cannon. The secondary blast hit the Princess fully in the chest, and knocked her down once more; flat on her back into the mud. She shivered as she lay, helpless, her body immersed in a seizing, all-encompassing grasp of pain. She-Ra's eyes struggled to stay open. Now, it seemed, was the moment of her doom.

"She's alive, for now." Shadow Weaver called calmly to She-Ra as she lay defeated in the swampy undergrowth. "As are you. The pair of you have an important appointment to keep. At the Fright Zone."

Looking up and around, She-Ra saw the caped form of Catra appear from her state of invisibility mere feet ahead of her; shadow bearing down on her. Try as she might, her body wouldn't follow the defensive instincts of her mind. The Princess of Power was in shock; she'd never experienced anything like it. What manner of weapon could this be?

Fear enveloped She-Ra: binding her soul – now a tangible force. Her enemies gathered ahead of her, powerful and bristling with intention. Her resistance was failing, her doom imminent.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**

As Shadow Weaver stood watching from on high – her arms folded - the trio of villainesses now surrounded the prone Princess in a tight circle. Behind them, the remaining Horde guard stood still, but ominously on guard. Life began to return to She-Ra's limbs, but she could still barely move.

"Stand back, I warn you…" with all her strength, the erstwhile Princess of Power could only get onto her knees, her cape and dress now saturated.

"Bind her." Shadow Weaver called out, aggressively. Catra – purring wildly and showing little reluctance – was the first to step forward, dropping a concealed backpack to the ground from beneath her cape before seizing the kneeling, stunned, submissive body of She-Ra with hungry hands.

"Rriaow. You won't be needing this…" Catra cooed, effortlessly pulling She-Ra's shimmering golden headpiece from her temples, and tossing it into the mud.

"No… please, no…" the Princess begged as her blonde hair fell about her face. Entrapta silenced her and sent her kneeling body falling back into the brown liquid of the bog with a thump of the Doom Cannon against her caped back.

She-Ra cried out as she fell, gurgling with sobs as her face met with the muddy, unstable ground. Scorpia inched closer, and still holding the magical Sword carefully between both claws out of the heroine's grasp, she wrapped her dreadful tail around She-Ra's torso – holding her steady as her cohorts prepared to restrain her.

"Uhh… stop…" the Princess' protests grew fainter as Scorpia's tail coiled her, the sharp tip of the deadly stinger terrifyingly close to her prone, golden choker clad neck.

Above the Princess; thick chains, glowing green and clearly fashioned out of some kind of awful metallic compound of the Doom Crystal were produced from the opened backpack, and promptly locked around She-Ra's wrists by Catra; who fastened her arms tight behind her. The manacles, throbbing with wicked energy, seemed to sap the heroine's strength from the moment they were applied.

"Ngh… let me go…" She-Ra weakly pleaded as a huge collar – made of the same vile, glowing alloy – was clasped securely around her neck from behind. A large 'D' loop hung from its front, beneath the captive Princess's chin. Her now mud-tinged, wet hair had strayed, fallen and matted across the side of her face as she did her best to struggle against her constraints.

"The Princess is subdued, Shadow Weaver." Catra called out triumphantly.

"Quite subdued." Scorpia, relinquishing her tail's grip, stepped out behind She-Ra and tossed the Princess's confiscated sword high into the air. With the aid of some levitation magic, Shadow Weaver brought it floating gently into her clutches. She held it aloft as She-Ra struggled to look up at her mountainside perch, broken hearted.

"The sword of the Princess of Power." The hooded villainess cackled, her voice elevating with the smug pride of victory. "How our Lord Hordak could have use for this."

She-Ra sank further to her knees in the powerful bonds as the mud rose up to her short skirt. Her mind could scarcely compute how she'd fallen for this elaborate kidnap plot. Now, she was truly in danger of becoming a slave to the Horde. As the terrible bonds glowed about her body, a sensation filled her veins that scared her even more. There was some kind of excitement, even _arousal _beginning to stem from her captive state. She struggled, trying to close her mind from it.

"You'll… ngghh… never get away with this, Shadow Weaver…" She-Ra raised her head and blurted out, cohesive speech already becoming a problem as the elements of the Doom Crystal worked their foul magic on all aspects of the heroine's body.

"Enough talking for now, it is time." Shadow Weaver called out, nodding to herself, glowering eyes still transfixed on the crystal-emblazoned Sword of Power.

Catra dug into a pouch on her belt and produced a black leather gag, which was stuffed fully into the Princess of Power's mouth – reducing her diminishing protests to mere muffled whimpers. As the gag was buckled tightly around She-Ra's blonde-maned head and a thick leather leash attached to the 'D' link fronting the metallic Doom-Collar, the heroine's humiliation and restraint was complete.

"Take her away…" Shadow Weaver hissed; full of evil glee, as she slid the sword of power safely under her cape. With the command, Catra and Scorpia flanked their prisoner from either side and pulled her to her feet. Scorpia held She-Ra from behind and began marching her through the mud: Catra gleefully taking her from the front, tugging at the leash around her neck. Entrapta stood aside as the heroine was taken, a malign smile on her red lips and the Doom Cannon still aimed at the captive. She-Ra squealed into the gag as she saw Swift Wind's sleeping body stretchered ahead of her; as the pair were briskly marched away to their doom.

"Rrriaow! You look just adorable all trussed up like that." Catra grinned back at the captive Princess – enjoying the anticipation of her imminent enslavement to her cause - as she tugged playfully on the leash, wrapping it around her fist. She-Ra could offer nothing in resistance, and merely bowed her gagged head as she walked painfully at her captors' dictated pace.

As the remaining Horde Troops made their way - single file - either side of her through the gully towards the coastline, She-Ra knew she was truly a prisoner of war, inevitably with worse to come. The Horde were notorious for enslaving the people of Etheria, and had many methods with which to achieve it. Such thoughts worried She-Ra on a constant level, but at this moment, chained and gagged in their clutches, they terrified her.

Weakly looking up as they traversed out of the gully and onto the path, She-Ra had a lump in her throat as she saw the threatening, scorpion-shaped silhouette of the 'Crawler'. It was Scorpia's heavy-duty, tank-esque vehicle waiting by a coastal ridge – no doubt ready for her transportation to the dreaded Fright Zone.

She-Ra was close to tears as she was led over the mound of Bright Moon towards her thankless fate, the sea crashing far beneath her. She knew she was utterly defeated; her only hope was some kind of rescue. Perhaps Glimmer and the Rebels at the Castle had rounded up the rest of the Horde invaders and would come searching for her? Or maybe He-Man himself could be somehow be contacted?

Her strength and will fading inside of her as she saw the 'Crawler's loading ramp lower to the ground – mere yards ahead - a single tear rolled down She-Ra's beautiful, gagged face.

The follow up expedition into the mountains of Bright Moon had left the Castle only shortly after She-Ra had. By the time they'd reached the standing stones, it was approaching nightfall, and they were on foot. Glimmer and Frosta headed the group – about twenty strong and consisting mainly of rebels volunteers appearing at the Castle in the wake of the attack.

A set of scouts took the point and headed through the gully, beginning to light torches in the impending darkness. The remainder fanned out in the swampy, circular spot of valley ground, searching for anything that'd lead them to the missing She-Ra.

"It's getting dark." Glimmer rued, now comfortably suited and booted in her blue-ish rebel armour, as was Frosta. "A scan of this area then we should scour the clifftops."

"Glimmer, look." Frosta pointed across a small, yet visible, gleam from the swamp ahead of them. Glimmer followed her gaze and slowly, painfully, made her way through the mud.

Horrified, Glimmer stooped to pick up the soiled yet still golden crown of the Princess of Power.

"No, it can't be…"

Glimmer sank to her knees, tears welling in her bright eyes.

"Princess, over here." A male voice – one of the scouts - hollered from beyond the gully.

Still clinging to her friend's crown, Glimmer broke into a run to follow the voice. It belonged to a Captain of the Rebellion, Alessandro Stace who knelt over some mud-churned, tank-like tracks in a suit of immaculate golden armour.

"What is it, Alessandro?"

"Tracks, milady. To my knowledge, they're those of a tank. The Crawler, to be specific." His eyes followed the tracks, with the aid of torchlight, to the coastal path.

"Scorpia." Glimmer's face sank even more.

Stace nodded. "The tracks lead off to the west, down the coast. I'd wager they'd lead us straight to the Fright Zone." As his handsome face tightened into a concerned frown, Glimmer knelt beside him to inspect the tracks. Stace looked into Glimmer's reddening eyes.

"I'm sure she's still alive, your highness."

"She's alive, I know it." Glimmer confirmed, and firmly. "But I can feel she's in great pain…"

Glimmer did her best to flick her mind back from the emotional to the logical.

"First Catra, now Scorpia. If my mother is correct and Shadow Weaver is involved too, we will have our hands full."

"What's our next move?" Frosta boomed impatiently, arriving behind the pair.

Glimmer stood up, looking down briefly at She-Ra's muddy crown in her hands.

"We tool up, and then we go for her." The redness gone from her eyes, Glimmer gave a steely look. Frosta matched her gaze, and gave the Princess an encouraging smile as the moon began to rise over the sea.


	5. Chapter 5

**5**

She-Ra had been out for lord knows how long.

She woke up, aching, to an unwelcoming sight. Her mighty body still bound, she was in a small cell of brown stone seemingly upholstered with bone, and lit only by a pair of naked, flaming torches along the side wall. It was the moment she feared, always. The recurring nightmare she had.

The Princess of Power was now a prisoner of the Fright Zone.

The same chains that Catra had fastened on her in Bright Moon's valley now shackled her wrists and ankles to an iron 'X' against the wall of the cell. What in Etheria were they made from? And how could they disable her so much?

Worse still, She-Ra had been stripped of her costume, and was dressed – to her despair – in a skimpy leather outfit befitting a slave girl of the Horde.

The very tight, black, studded leather bustier barely contained the heaving bosom of the Princess, and a sleek thong also left little to the imagination. A pair of knee-high, lace-up boots adorned her legs. Looking down at her scantily clad body, she realised she'd been dressed for Hordak's pleasure like a doll.

The metal collar chaining her earlier had been replaced by a thinner one of matching leather, encrusted at the throat with a small Doom Crystal; fashioned in the shape of the Horde crest. The crystal glowed green constantly, with evil power to hold its captive wearer under its spell. It was to be She-Ra's slave collar, a symbol of her submission to the Horde.

A harness made of the same rigid leather was buckled around the head of the Princess of Power. A large, similarly studded panel gag covered most of her lower face, led with twin straps either side of her nose to a silver 'O' on her forehead; that in turn led to straps pressing down her long blonde mane, surrounding her head.

Her mouth and jaw ached after hours gagged by the contraption.

She-Ra felt helpless, exposed, and worse. The arousal she had felt in the aftermath of her kidnapping and restraint had grown inside her now. She was pure and chaste as a young Princess of the Realm should be – the Queen and her people had brought her up well - but the lust now inside her was immeasurable. It had been ever since she had been captured, like some malign but erotic spell had fallen over her. At this moment, be it even against her failing will, she _needed_ to be taken.

Beside her, the door of the cell swung open and quickly slammed shut again. She-Ra looked up, her body shivering as she saw the imposing figure of the evil Lord of the Horde approach her.

"_Mmmmppphhh!_"

Hordak looked his humbled foe over, clearly enjoying what he saw and heard. Taking in the sight and sound of his gorgeous nemesis in bondage for a lingering moment, he stepped forward to unbuckle the harness from around his captive's head, pulling it free, and taking the gag from over her lips. She opened her mouth wide and tried to get some movement back in her jaw. Hordak gave She-Ra's cheek a firm caress as he tossed the bondage contraption aside.

"Well, I have to say you look delightful dressed and trussed up like that, slave." Hordak grinned.

"I'm not your slave." She-Ra countered quickly.

"Ahhh." Hordak pondered, stroking her hair. "Still in denial. Your will is strong, as is your body." Hordak drew a cold hand down She-Ra's arm. "That is good. It will make you even more useful to us when you join us." He teased a blonde lock between his thumb and forefinger.

"You overestimate your chances, Hordak." She-Ra countered, bravely, attempting a defiant smile. "I am your prisoner, yes..."

"I'm glad you noticed." Hordak grinned again, wider. She-Ra's face was stone.

"He-Man will come for me." She stated plainly.

Hordak burst into a fit of laughter, as if he was waiting for the subject to arise.

"Ah-ha. So you rely on your knuckle-headed brother after all, despite all your previous bravado and independence." The Horde Lord stepped back and cracked his knuckles together. "So be it. Shadow Weaver!"

She-Ra bristled as the spectral sorceress floated through the closed door - evidently already waiting in the wings – and hovered ominously before her, at her master's side.

"Show the slave what she is missing." Hordak grinned, taking another step back.

"Gladly, Master." The red shrouded creature conjured up a man-size viewing portal in the middle of the cell, giving She-Ra little choice but to look directly into it. Shadow Weaver's eyes disappeared into the void within her hood as she delved into concentration; a low throb of energy tangible in the room.

"Enjoy." Hordak cackled at his prisoner.

As She-Ra winced in her bonds and struggled to make anything out with her eyes, a dreadful vision gradually honed into view. Unmistakably, it was He-Man, his all-powerful, ripped body steeped in heavy bondage to rival She-Ra's own, and in the foul grips of a torturer in some kind of cave-like cell. He was stripped of his armour - naked except for his loincloth – with sets of familiar, glowing green chains wrapping his thighs and ankles, his wrists and biceps, and his torso and chest. Ropes of a green-soaked hue coiled his muscular neck and fed round his head into his mouth, acting as a gag. Sweat and drool dripped from his pained face as he struggled; less than helpless.

She-Ra's eyes began to well up once more. As the fist of his unseen captor swung into He-Man's face, knocking his head back and eliciting a pained grunt through the rope gag, the captive Princess could only turn away from the vision.

"How do like your mighty hero now?" roared Hordak, evidently enjoying himself.

"Stop it!" She screamed. Turning back gingerly she saw He-Man take another blow, this time into his trussed, ripped abdomen. The captive blonde beauty shook her head wildly as Hordak and Shadow Weaver looked on.

"I don't believe it… It's not true." She-Ra's voice quietened and she bowed her head, her eyes squeezed shut.

"Search in your heart, slave Princess." Shadow Weaver rasped. "I think you know the truth."

"No…" She-Ra sobbed, looking up again to see the magical vision had already – agonizingly - disappeared, with only a villainous pair of discomforting faces staring back at her.

"He is as helpless on Eternia as you are here." Shadow Weaver stated calmly.

"This is the key to both your downfalls." Hordak stepped in and prodded a finger at the crest at She-Ra's throat. "Damzelite. A deadly threat to you - slave – as well you know. It is also known as the Doom Crystal. I think you know why."

She-Ra swallowed hard, feeling the collar's presence more than ever.

"Doom Crystal? What have you done to me?"

"Dominated you." Shadow Weaver's voice was now a lower hiss. "We have found, after all this time, the very antidote to your magical powers." She-Ra couldn't believe what she was hearing. "It is a doom attributed and destined for you and your brother alone, my dear."

"Leave us, Shadow Weaver." Hordak interrupted and commanded; all of a sudden looking more serious than ever.

"As you wish, Master." Shadow Weaver dropped her spindly hands, a magical aura still surrounding them. As his minion left the cell, Hordak stepped closer to his bound beauty and stroked a finger between her legs.

"What are you doing?" She-Ra gasped, pulling herself away as much as she could against the stone wall. Hordak didn't stop, and after a moment moved his hands up to fondle and caress her breasts through the leather bustier. He drew a finger salaciously down her incredible cleavage, licking his lips.

"I've wanted you back in my command for a long time." He leaned in, planting a beastly kiss on her cheek. As his fingers lifted to trace the collar around She-Ra's neck, his other hand slid down her leg. The Princess, now quivering with lust, did her utmost to resist.

"Stop… you can't do this. I am a Princess of the realm."

"You are no longer a Princess. You are a slave. _My _slave." Hordak's scything remarks forced a shake of his captive's blonde head.

"I have powerful allies… the Great Rebellion will stop at nothing…"

Hordak laughed again, interrupting his lovely prisoner. He gripped her head by the hair and pulled it back to meet his gaze. As her voice wavered, he knew she was gripping at straws.

"The Great Rebellion will fall." His matter-fact-confidence was becoming convincing to the prisoner. "With you and He-Man my slaves, they do not stand a chance and you know it." He gripped She-Ra by the chin now, and stared into her entrancing eyes, clearly obsessed with her. She soon lowered her gaze in deference to him, making him smile.

"I shall deal with these so-called 'Great Rebels' when the time arrives. Now though, it is time to pledge your allegiance to the Horde."

"What? You know I won't…"

"I will have my Despara back." Hordak nodded. She-Ra twitched at the mention of the name she hadn't heard in years. She'd almost succeeded in shutting the memory of her formative years in the Horde's service completely from her mind. The mere voicing of the word: the name of her former, evil self; hurt She-Ra as much as any of the tortures that lay ahead possibly could.

"I won't." She-Ra's voice was becoming a lesser thing; by now a mere hush.

"I know you will." The Horde Leader's voice was steady, his expression remained serious. "While you slept, Shadow Weaver has poisoned and clouded your mind more than you yet know. And this is merely the beginning of your initiation. You will submit to me, O Princess of Power. And ever so willingly."

"Then why am I in chains?" She-Ra blurted out in defiance, rattling against the said constraints. "You won't truly defeat me. You're as foolish and over-confident as ever, Hordak."

Hordak didn't answer - but turned his back on his prisoner - silently moving to the corner of the cell and drawing one of the long, metallic pokers from the depths of the blazing bucket of flames sitting there.

She-Ra's eyes bulged as he approached with the silvery, sizzling rod. As he tipped it upwards towards her face, she saw the white hot, glowing Horde Crest design adorning the tip. A gasp emitted from between her lips as she began to work out what it was for.

"No…" She-Ra shook her head once more, the green crest of her collar glowing ever brighter. Hordak advanced, immune to her pleas.

"Please… no. I beg of you, Hordak."

The evil Lord said nothing, but smiled slightly. A short step away from her, he lowered the poker and prodded it firmly into She-Ra's side. His captive gave out a scream as the metal sizzled and smoked painfully off her flesh. The burning shot through the very soul of the chained heroine.

"Uhhhhh!" She yelled again, her super-powers truly now deserting her, erased by the power of the Doom Crystal. As Hordak pulled the poker away, he'd left his indelible mark on the torso of his captive. She was branded by the Horde.

"You fiend…" She-Ra hung limply in the chains, breathing heavily; hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

"Don't be sad, Slave. In time you will grow to obey me. To worship me. To _love _me."

"You don't know the meaning of the word!" She-Ra screamed, sobbing. She rattled at the chains again with her dwindling might.

"Your fate is inevitable." The evil Lord chided his prisoner. She-Ra stared hard at him as he made to leave the room. Somewhere inside her, there was the hellish thought of wanting him to stay.

Hordak turned back to her as he opened the cell door.

"First of all though, it is time for celebration." With that ambiguous remark, the door slammed shut, leaving She-Ra once again alone in her private prison – fearfully pondering her fate.


	6. Chapter 6

**6**

A fully fledged banquet was in flow in the Great Hall of Hordak's wing of the Fright Zone. The mood was rambunctious. Every Horde lieutenant was called upon, and in attendance, no matter how freakish or reclusive. Wine and grog flowed, playful fights erupted, and crude victory songs were loudly sung. Slave girls in fetish attire of black leather emblazoned with Horde Insignia brought forth food and drinks to the Horde leaders, and were publicly used and abused as their wicked masters saw fit.

Hordak himself, dressed in black ceremonial armour and wrapped in a long cape, sat upon his throne and watched the bacchanalian goings-on with a keen eye. An oversized tankard filled with some kind of steaming, foul-looking grog sat in his grasp, which he swigged from occasionally.

Above his head - newly hung from the wall – was She-Ra's Sword of Power. It was framed, frozen and nullified inside a hanging case of pure Damzelite which glowed like garish neon.

Two large circular tables sat ahead of him, populated by his high command, and flanked by two long benches for his lesser minions: almost stretching the full length of the Hall.

To the musing Evil Lord's right - in the only darkened corner of the room - Shadow Weaver floated in meditation; a deep concentration regarding some internal vision and completely cut off from the debauchery around her.

Inevitably, She-Ra herself was the focal point of the celebration. She'd been placed on a stone pedestal in the centre of the hall and strung up to attention - star-shaped - with heavy leather straps. The bonds wrapped her wrists and ankles to a simple two-posted structure hewn again of Damzelite, which resembled a crude sacrificial altar. The captive Princess was still invitingly clad in her tight slave girl costume, and still collared and heavily gagged by the encumbering head harness.

By Hordak's whim, she'd been cruelly trussed up as such and offered to the Horde's numerous lieutenants in light of their victory. She'd been led in – humiliatingly, on a leash held by the Horde Lord – as part of some demonic parade, before being held up as its proud centrepiece.

As she stood high - bound and static - some merely fondled her helpless, voluptuous body displaying a hitherto contained lust for the Princess of Power. The more bitter and vengeful among the Horde ranks took the opportunity to beat her. In her time on Etheria, the Princess had got the better of just about every last one of them, and the chance for revenge against the helpless, enslaved heroine was too much for them to pass up.

_If only I had my sword, I'd show them my power…_

Raucous music broke out from a motley gang of mutant – with very odd horn-like instruments - at the side of the hall, and many of the revellers thudding their tankards against the long wooden tables in rhythm with their tune. As the raggedy music built up, Grizzlor - the humongous man-beast of the wilds of Etheria – stepped up to the pedestal to myriad cheers from his henchmen.

She-Ra lifted her head as the great furry brute passed in front of her, swallowing hard behind the gag, her wide eyes clearly conveying her fear as they looked down to the whip in his paw-like, clawed hand.

The Horde Lieutenant, swathed in his thick, greasy brown fur looked upon the bound hostage with hate-filled, blood-red eyes. Mere weeks before he'd been defeated by the heroine in his swampland domain; more or less left for dead. The stone beneath the captive heroine shuddered as he stepped closer to her. Without warning, the beast began his torture.

_CRACK! CRACK!_

With every rhythmic lash of the whip down She-Ra's helpless back the crowd roared. Her lush, tanned skin was beginning to redden and break; the tears starting to stream from her eyes. The Princess of Power was weakening by the moment, and the combination of Grizzlor's ruthless whip and the Doom Collar served to ensnare her with more pain than she'd ever been subjected to.

As Grizzlor cracked the leather whip once more, She-Ra moaned wildly into the thick gag, her body flailing.

"I must hold on, for Etheria's sake." The Princess chanted in her head, over and over again. Yet, through her body's torture, the weakness and the pain were seeping into her soul. As her eyes caught the faces of the taunting Horde, she knew she was falling into a defeat she never thought would come. Across the Great Hall, Hordak fixed his gaze on her, emotionless and cold. He could see the will of his nemesis being bent and broken before him.

_CRACK!_

She-Ra's tears soaked her cheeks. The mantra inside her head drew to a halt. Her soul was in its gravest danger. She steadied herself in the bonds, ready to succumb to her fate.

Mercifully, just as the Princess thought she couldn't take another lash, the whipping ceased.

As her torturer stepped down from the pedestal there was a brief silence of sorts - a pause in the proceedings - interrupted by a flash of light near the centre of the hall.

Catra suddenly appeared from a state of invisibility, posing wildly and dressed – rather alluringly - in She-Ra's costume. The bound and gagged heroine could only meekly shake her head at the humiliation as the leather bonds held her limp body in place.

"Purrrr!" Catra cackled and bowed as she made her show-stopping appearance, drawing widespread rowdy applause and wolf whistles of affection. The villainess slinked up to the pedestal with feline grace and smiled longingly at the blonde prisoner held there.

"How do you like my outfit, slave?" Catra giggled, twirling to pose for She-Ra and the crowd. The leather-clad prisoner could do little but hang her head in shame as the villainess gloated in front of her cheering Horde. Licking her lips, Catra moved closer. She slipped in behind She-Ra and unfastened her bustier, letting it fall to the ground, to even greater cheers from the crowd. The gorgeous, huge breasts of the Princess of Power fell free and heaved from her chest, glistening with the sweat of her ordeal. Catra gleefully snuggled in behind She-Ra and fondled them from behind, her dextrous fingers tweaking the nipples into a hardened state.

The crowd – and the band - had all but stopped whatever they were doing and watched eagerly as Catra caressed and massaged She-Ra's luscious breasts, leaning in to kiss her neck around the slave collar with unforeseen tenderness.

_No… you can't take me… I'm the Princess of Power and Purity…_

She-Ra – despite herself – felt the burning arousal in her bondage once more, more than ever. She turned, tilting her heavily-harnessed head, as if she wanted to kiss Catra. She salivated so much it came out of the side of the gag.

_I must remain pure…_

"Rriaow! Lovely slave…" Catra's tongue licked the drool from the soft cheek of the Princess, very slowly.

"_Mmmmphhh! Ngghmmpph!"_

She-Ra moaned wildly into the gag. From in front of the bound prisoner, Scorpia stood from her table and moved up to the pedestal – evidently keen not let her cohort take all the fun.

As Catra slipped her hands down to firmly grab her slave's ass cheeks, Scorpia gripped her pincers around her breasts, a sensation that sent judders through She-Ra's bound body.

_Must resist… for the honour of Greyskull… I must resist…_

Catra grinned maniacally, her face wild with excitement. Her hands roamed over She-Ra's body again then settled as she gently slipped her fingers beneath the leather thong from the front. She-Ra's eyes bulged and then closed in ecstasy as she felt Catra's gloved fingers touch her moist sex.

Scorpia gripped the Princess's breasts harder as she pulled herself close in to the prisoner, peppering her gagged face with soft kisses. The Hall remained in an almost silent state as She-Ra writhed erotically in the bonds and the touch of her captors, her blonde hair brushing Scorpia's face as she emitted gasps of pleasure into the gag.

_Ngghh… can't resist them…_

With the animalistic, evil beauties thrusting into her from side to side, and Catra's experienced fingers rubbing and teasing inside her, She-Ra was quick to orgasm. Her eyes bulged and she squealed loudly into the gag.

_Ohhhh!_

Across the room, Shadow Weaver jerked into action from her zen-like state. Hordak noticed immediately through the rowdy, captivated crowd and eyeballed her cautiously. She raised her hand high in the air, prompting the Lord of the Horde to slam down his tankard to the arm of his throne twice, stopping the party in its tracks.

"Silence!" Hordak roared. His glance turned back to his spectral advisor.

"They're close, Master. Closer than I thought." Shadow Weaver informed him, a chill in her raspy voice.

"You are sure, Weaver?" Hordak quizzed her. She nodded brusquely in response.

Hordak stood from his throne, arms raised above his head.

"The rebels are imminent!" He growled, drawing mostly murmurs of discontent from his Horde, eager to get back to the festivities. "The party is over, it is time for action." He pointed to She-Ra, still reeling in the clutches of Catra and Scorpia. "You have seen their Champion brought to her knees! A Slave! Now the same must happen to them. They must be crushed under the boots of the Horde."

Ahead of him, the Hordesmen – led by Grizzlor – stood up to attention in solidarity. The mood switched swiftly from disillusionment to sheer focus.

Hordak raised his arms once more to silence his troops. Shadow Weaver now floated by his side.

"Everyone to battle positions! Await my command." Hordak shouted, to immediate reaction.

The swathes of Hordesmen passed through the Great Hall in all directions, each shaking off the effects of the grog and the revelling to revert to their sworn duties. Across the Hall, She-Ra's two tormentors were forced to let her go.

"_Rrriaow. _Hope we get to play some more later, _Slave._"

Catra licked the juices of the Princess of Power from her gloved hands and turned away, a gloating smile across her lips. Scorpia too gave a grin and relinquished – reluctantly – her grip on the half-naked prisoner.

She-Ra collapsed, panting, held up only by the bonds. As she breathed heavily, the Doom Collar seemed to tighten again around her throat.

_I must find the strength within me. Grayskull give me the strength…_

"Not you two guards." Hordak growled as a pair of humanoid Hordesmen made to hurry past him. They stopped on the spot, awaiting their master's command.

"Take the prisoner to my personal chamber." Hordak smoothed back his silky cape and stroked under his chin. The two minions nodded, yet remained still. "Now, fools!" Hordak reiterated, loudly.

She-Ra could barely move a muscle as the guards untied her and pulled her down from the pedestal. As she was swiftly led into another darkened corridor of the Fright Zone, the Princess of Power couldn't help but speculate what lay next in store for her in this temple of horrors.


End file.
